Time of our lives
by Hogwarts Online II
Summary: Each year, each person has an important date they wish to pay tribute to. These are their stories. Written by the students of Hogwarts Online
1. Remus Lupin by InkColouredBlood

**Howl.**

**by: InkColouredBlood**

**House: Slytherin**

**Character: Remus Lupin**

Twelve minutes to midnight.

When the clock strikes twelve, there will be pain.

Tremendous amounts of unbearable pain.

And you will have no other choice but to let it explore your body, let it light your organs on fire, let white hot knives pierce your skin and allow yourself to howl until it is over.

There's no escape, and that's something you have known for a long time.

Ten minutes to midnight.

But unlike other nights, this one will be worse.

There will not only be pain, but also memories. Crawling around the surface, waiting for the right time to occupy your mind and worsen your mood. They will make you relive the first few years of agony; stubborn and insisting till it tires your mind to unconsciousness. They will make you experience a dozen emotions – anger, pity, regret, misery, sadness. They will make you weak, physically and mentally, and there is nothing you can do about it.

There's no one to help you. No potion that can ease your pain. No spell that can make you forget. No friends or pranks to distract you.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Seven minutes to midnight.

You're trying to push it out of your mind. Let these seven minutes be lived in peace and calm, you hope. Delay the pain, the agony.

Six minutes to midnight.

Your friends aren't here with you tonight, unlike the other times. You've ditched them; Left them worrying about your whereabouts. It's five and a half minutes to midnight and they have not seen neither head nor tail of you. You feel a pang of guilt but it quickly subsides. You haven't told them today was the day. The topic may have come up a few times but you were quick to distract Sirius by pointing to a girl, James by magicking a snitch and waving it in his face and Peter by offering him a slice of cheese. You don't mean to worry them, but this is just something you have to do alone.

Four minutes to midnight.

If there is one day in the year that you break down all your walls and barriers, it is today. Today is when that façade of yours slips and stumbles out into the open air. It's the day when you just be human, but in the body of another creature.

Three minutes to midnight.

You've escaped from that claustrophobic shack and have ventured out to a cave beyond the outskirts of Hogsmeade. This is where you will be transforming. Out in the open air. Well in a place where foolish wizards may see you. They are foolish for daring to venture out late in the night. For the night is when evil takes over.

You're not an evil person. However, when you transform, you become someone else. You take in the likes of werewolves. You become a blood-thirsty demon seeking to kill. You feel another pang of guilt when you realize that this is wrong. Dumbledore wouldn't approve. After all, you went behind his back and often roam around in the forests with animagi. But why should it matter this time?

That's right – it doesn't.

Today is when you throw out all your rules and regulations. Forget everything but the memories. Wallow in another body. You can't be arsed if you kill or if you don't.

Sighing, you step out of the cave where the moon is partially clouded.

You wait.

One minute to midnight.

_If you could only see, the beast you've made of me._

Suddenly, the moon shines brilliantly down upon you and your pupils start to dilute. You run back inside the cave as fast as you can and bite your lip, trying not to scream. You're growing shorter, thinner and your ribcage is becoming too visible as though you wear no skin. You grab the walls, groaning as a tufted tail emerges from your behind. You hear something unpleasant, like chalk that is dragged along a chalkboard. You haven't realized its your hands – or rather claws.

_I've held it in but now it seems you've set it running free._

Your clothes have been ripped apart but you can't find the strength to care. You feel like a new born baby, everything comes in focus and you can see clearer. You nose is sharper and the scent of humans is stronger here than it ever was in that old shack. Your muscles are begging to be used and so you comply, emerging out of the cave with your tail whipping freely.

There's a low burn in your throat, waiting to be fed. So, you venture out to find your prey. Your ears perk up as you sense a presence behind you. You turn slowly, feasting your eyes upon the lamb. It seems to have escaped from a nearby butcher shop.

You pounce.

It dodges.

_Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart._

You growl and extend your claws far enough to tangle it in its soft wool. You smile as it lets out a terrified squeak and attempts to run. You pull it closer.

_Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart_.

You tear it limb to limb. It is dead by now.

_My fingers claw your skin; try to tear my way in._

_You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl._

It tastes heavenly, but human flesh would be even better. You stop chewing as a memory flashes in your head, and suddenly, the meat doesn't taste so good any more.

You remember when eight years ago, on this very night, you were first bitten. You had ventured out of the house even though your Mother had warned you of monsters but you were young and carefree and the dangers lurking about didn't settle in your mind. You had seen a dog walk by out of your window and you ran after it.

You had always wanted a pet dog.

It turned to face you as you fell behind, panting after having chased it for (what in your mind seemed like) miles.

Suddenly, you were scared. Your parents were well out of reach and the dog didn't seem so friendly before as it did when you had gazed out of the window.

Its eyes were in slits and it was sizing you up hungrily. It slowly walked towards you, putting paw after paw but you couldn't move. Your feet were planted firmly to the ground. The monster could sense fear radiating out of you and it grinned, if possible, like a chesire cat. You could hear the gears turning in its head and could understand what it was thinking.

_Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack._

_My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out._

Your senses came to you in a flash and you ran, distancing yourself from it as fast as you could while hollering out your parents name in deep seated fear.

But eventually, it caught up to you.

_The saints can't help me now._

_The ropes have been unbound; I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground._

_Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins._

_I want to find you, tear you all out of your tenderness._

_And howl._

And so it did. Its paws grabbed your shoulder, gripping you firmly much like you had held the lamb. It pulled you towards itself and sank its teeth into your skin. You howled in pain.

It only gripped you harder.

Then there was a blinding flash of light and the creature was slammed against a nearby tree. You were too much in pain to realize what was happening. You didn't realize your parents had finally found you or that your father had scooped you up and was running towards the house with your mother trailing behind him.

The beast was gone but the pain wasn't.

You were rushed to St. Mungos, knocked out with a potion and didn't wake up till later that day. But still, the pain hadn't gone and the worst was yet to come. You were told that you had become a werewolf. You didn't understand why your mother was crying or why your father had paled considerably or even why the nurse spoke with something akin to disgust in her tone.

You didn't realize you weren't human anymore.

_Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers._

_It starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters._

A piercing noise broke you out of your reverie and you shook your head to dispel the memories. Your head turned to face the source of the noise and you grinned wolfishly when you discovered a terrified man standing no more than a few meters away from you.

_The fabric of your flesh, pure as a wedding dress._

_Until I wrap myself around your arms I cannot rest._

_The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound._

_I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground._

Out of nowhere, you feel two figures crashing into your body. You fall to the ground in a tangled heap and once again, your ears perk up as you hear the human running away. Lifting yourself, you make to run after him but the animals behind you have tackled you once again and you fall to the ground.

The human is nowhere in sight but you can still smell his scent. Again, you ignore these animals and make to trace the human but a growl from your right grabs your attention. Your head swivels to face a massive black dog whose teeth are barred. On your left, is a black stag. Your mind whispers, _they're your friends_, but you can only see them as obstacles in the way of human flesh.

You growl and pounce on the stag first but it dodges. The dog is sinking its teeth into your fur and holding you back. You feel a sense of playfulness and familiarity but you can't remember.

You, the stag and the dog are now circling each other. It is two to one but you think you can take them. But then, pain envelopes you. You fall to the ground, screaming and writhing in agony. Your paws are changing form, your tail is slowly disappearing. Out of your peripheral vision, the stag and the dog transfigure into humans, but you can't seem to care. The pain is making you lose your sense of control.

You can only help but whimper.

Two minutes pass and the pain is slowly subsiding. You feel a hand on your shoulder and your head swivels to see a young boy of seventeen staring at you with concern etched deep into his face. You can't see properly now, your vision is losing its sense of clarity. Its dark, you notice. A glimmer of moonlight is reflected off of the boy's glasses.

"You okay, Moony?" he asks softly.

Your memory comes back. The stag was James, your best friend. The dog was Sirius, your other best friend. You wonder where Peter is, the rat. You know they're going to question you. 'Why didn't you go to the shack, Remus?', 'Remus, you know better than transforming outside the grounds'. You try to come up with excuses but at the moment, you are tired. The night is cold and you just want to wrap yourself in your blanket and drink hot chocolate.

You worry about the coming morning. The memories will haunt your mind again and everything you do will remind you of that night. But right now, you just want to go back to Hogwarts.

Back home.

_A man who's pure of heart and says his prayer by night, may still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright._


	2. Minerva McGonagall by Lucy

**Nine**

**by: My Dear Professor McGonagall**

**House: Gryffindor**

**Character: Minerva McGonagall**

21 June 2006

Minerva McGonagall squinted out the window of the headmaster's—no, _her_ office. Was she really still thinking of it as his? Gracious.

The summer light poured in, illuminating the flecks of dust that floated through the air, and the headmistress sighed, then winced, placing a hand on her chest. She frowned and looked back to the letter she was composing.

The ache between Minerva's collarbones wasn't only physical, although that was certainly a large part of it. Ten years ago—plus a day or two—she was struck down by four Stunning spells, fired at her by some of her former, best students. At the time, she hadn't known which hurt more._ I lived to tell the tale to that horrible old toad_, _though_, she thought, with a slight twitch of her lips.

But the root of what pained her, what caused her to retreat into her office on June the twenty-first every single year, was more than the residual sting of a spell. It was far deeper, past even her emotions, into her very core. Nine years ago—to the day exactly, in this case—she had lost the best friend she had ever known.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead, removing her old square-framed glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose before replacing them. Looking around the office, she decided it wasn't so different from the way it had looked when she first walked in to accept her teaching post, some fifty years—_Merlin's beard_—before.

She hadn't appreciated it at the time, but during his headmastership, Severus never truly altered a thing about the wide, round room, not even to remove the tables bearing the assortment of odd trinkets and machines. Maybe he had never thought of it as his own, either.

Certainly, there were even more books now. More tartan. But for the most part, the room was the same. Even the many silver instruments were still there, neatly arranged on their tables, which had been moved closer to the walls.

The dull pain in her chest throbbed, and she closed her eyes, leaning back in the chair. Perhaps she would see if Poppy could give her something later; for now, she would survive. It was rare for Minerva to feel old, but on today of all days, the feeling hit her hard. She got up, slowly, a little stiffly, to pour herself a cup of tea.

As she did so, she caught sight of her faint reflection in the glass of the window. Her hair was turning silvery now, but was still very long, pinned neatly into her customary bun. There were more lines around her eyes and mouth. She looked tired, Minerva decided. And sad, though she attributed that to the day.

Suddenly hearing the dim echo of her mother's voice, Minerva pulled her shoulders back and stood up straight, staring haughtily at her reflection. _For goodness' sake, Minerva McGonagall, if you're going to commit to moping about all day, do it with a little backbone_.

The corner of her thin mouth lifted slightly, and she turned away from the window, quietly moving to look up at the portrait that hung above her desk. He was sleeping, or at least pretending to. For that she was grateful. Right now, it was simply too difficult to have him be so close, and yet so far away.

Minerva sat down again, swirling her tea around in the cup. Nine years…it was hard to believe that she—any of them—had lasted that long. She had spent so much time looking to _him_ for guidance and advice…she'd even had something of a crush on him, for a short while in school, when he'd been her professor. Perhaps a little longer.

When Caradoc was killed, all Minerva had left in terms of family amounted to one person. But that one person was the dearest thing in her world. He was occasionally silly, sometimes impractical, but steadfast, loving, and loyal. And he was her deepest confidant. She gave him all she had: her trust.

She was never bitter that he didn't share some of the finer details of his plans involving Harry. She understood: introduce more than one person, and the variables, the dangers, increased. He had given her something even more important in leaving her to care for the school and more importantly, the students. He knew what she would face, and he knew that she could withstand it.

Minerva adjusted herself, wincing a little. She expected that she would probably hear from Harry today; he remembered the day as clearly as she did, and always sent a note along, reminding her that she was not alone. Perhaps he would include a photograph of the baby this time.

Hermione Granger—Weasley, Minerva told herself—no doubt, would write as well; their twice-monthly practice of meeting for tea was on a hiatus. She and Ron Weasley were expecting their first child, after only a year and a half of marriage, and Apparition was inadvisable and inconvenient so late in Hermione's pregnancy.

Besides, Minerva thought, anything that they did send along would undoubtedly sit unopened; she knew what the notes would say, and she had no desire to be sympathized with.

She supposed this wasn't entirely clear to everyone, even after all these years. Poppy and Pomona, as well as a few others, Filius, Rolanda, Septima...they, too, always tried to "take care of her" on the twenty-first. Though Minerva cared very much for each of them, it was so much easier to retreat into herself for just one day than to try and be among people.

She didn't feel that this was too much to ask. Was it so bad to just take a day to be alone with her thoughts?

Now slightly annoyed, Minerva looked at her still-unfinished letter. She supposed that it was not going to be completed, so she picked up the parchment and slipped it into a desk drawer, then sat back and laid a hand on her breastbone.

Then, impatiently, she stood—a little too quickly, she realized, laying her hands on the desk for a moment—and moved over to the bookcase on the wall. Perhaps there was something that Minerva could take back to her rooms, rather than just sit pointlessly in the office.

She frowned at the shelves, running her fingers along the spines of the many books, and stopped at a book that she herself had given him: _Apricot to Zucchini: An Illustrated History of the Every-Flavored Bean_ by Bonnie Bott. The book, not unlike others in this case, wanted dusting. She wondered how long it had been since she had moved anything on this shelf. After all, it mostly contained his books.

Feeling oddly whimsical and nostalgic, Minerva reached for the candy book, and was surprised when something fell out of it, fluttering to the floor. She bent uncomfortably to pick up the piece of parchment and nearly dropped it again when she caught a glimpse of his handwriting.

Her hands trembling, she left the book lying on a table and found her way back to the desk, sinking down into her seat. She stared at the folded parchment. Clearly printed on the outside was her name:_ Minerva_. The slanted, loopy writing was unmistakable. The ink was his customary emerald green, but it was faded and slightly dusty.

Slowly, Minerva unfolded it and began to read.

_My dearest Minerva,_

_I do hope this letter finds you well. I don't know how much longer after I have died you will discover it, but if you have, then yes, my dear, I am gone. First, let me tell you what a pleasure it has been to be your friend and colleague these many years. You are, without question, one of the greatest witches, and even greater friends, that I shall ever be honored to know._

_If you are reading this not long after my death, then you will undoubtedly have a great deal of questions; be patient, soon everything will be explained. However, if you are reading this long after I've gone because you have never moved my things in this office, then your questions have already been answered, and the shelves are probably in need of dusting._

_Minerva, just as I know how I would feel if you disappeared from my life, I believe I know how you must feel, regardless of what date it is whilst you read this. Do not shut yourself away; you are far too good at that, and I do not want you to be alone. There are people all around you who love you. If there is one thing that can be known from everything our world has been through, it is that love is the most powerful magic there can be._

_Please, my dearest friend, reach for others, especially when you are in pain. I know how you grieve, and I know that you need your friends in those times more than ever. They long to be with you and your beautiful heart as much as you long to be with them. You have so much wisdom and so many gifts to share that to waste them would be as foolish as completely giving up Bertie Bott's deliciously dangerous treats after a single bad experience; nothing should stop you from trying again._

_I am gone, and yet I still ask a great deal of you. Minerva, it is time for you to share even more of your brilliance and your light with the whole world. They deserve to know you as well as I have._

_Your dear friend—_

Minerva closed her eyes and she felt tears spill down her cheeks. Then she leaned back in her chair, holding one hand over her chest as she tried not to sob. For almost ten minutes she let the tears flow, fighting the pain in her core. Then she opened her eyes, dabbing them with her old tartan handkerchief.

She took a deep breath that lanced through her and picked up a quill, tugging a stack of parchment to the center of her desk. Still sniffling and wiping her eyes with the hanky, Minerva shakily began to write.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when Minerva finally looked up. She had not noticed, but the pain in her chest had evaporated. She felt somehow lighter than she had in ten years. She stared at the stack of parchment before her, looking dazed, but pleased. Then her expression clouded. _Who does this belong to_? After thinking for several minutes, she decided that she wasn't sure she knew.

Minerva conjured a thin piece of twine with her wand and knotted it securely around the stack of parchment. She glanced over her shoulder and thought she might have seen the portrait's eyes quickly shut. At any rate, a trace of the old smile lifted the corners of his mouth. She picked up the parchment and placed it in a drawer on her left. Then she pulled out her pocket watch, Caradoc's only bequest.

With a jolt, Minerva realized that it was ten minutes past eleven. She looked out of the high windows at the glittering stars. The grounds were probably glowing tonight…she was struck with a sudden idea.

As quickly as she could move, Minerva got up, her body protesting painfully after hours of sitting still. She pressed her hand to the wooden paneling on the wall, where a hidden door clicked open, revealing a hook that held a tartan cloak and a walking stick. Minerva wrapped the cloak about her and made for the door.

She made her way through the castle. It was quiet, just like it had been that night nine years ago. She mentally shook herself. Nothing was happening now. She reached the bottom of the stairs in a matter of minutes and stood for a while, looking up. Then Minerva began to climb. Near the top she leaned on the stick a bit, but made it all the way up nonetheless.

As she laid a hand on the handle of the door, Minerva froze. A muffled voice spoke on the other side. She frowned, ready to catch some students who were out of bed, and flung the door open.

Poppy, Rolanda, Pomona, Filius, and Septima stood against the battlements of the Astronomy Tower, gazing up at the night sky. They each started at the sight of Minerva, who looked utterly astonished to find half her teaching staff atop the tower. There were several long moments of silence.

"Minerva," Poppy said quietly, amazedly.

Minerva smiled a little, suddenly overwhelmed with affection. "That's me," she said, stepping closer.

"We were just talking about you," Rolanda told her, arching an eyebrow with a shrewd look.

"We thought you might be here," Filius added gently. "We—" he broke off and looked at the others.

Pomona smiled. "We come up here every year." Septima nodded.

"Do you really?" Minerva tapped her stick on the ground. They were all quiet for a few moments. Then—

"May I?" asked Minerva, gesturing over the battlements to indicate that she would like to look out. The others made room for her. She stepped close to the wall and gazed out over the grounds. Her friends turned to face outwards alongside her.

Looking down near the edge of the forest, Minerva saw a light flickering in Hagrid's window. With a stab of guilt, she realized the vantage point that her students had had the night she almost died on the lawn. Then she turned to look in the other direction. The white tomb glistened in the moonlight, brighter than the surface of the lake in its opalescent glow.

Minerva closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the summery night air. She felt someone's arm go around her, and opened her eyes to see Poppy at her side. She smiled at her old friend as Poppy leaned her head on Minerva's shoulder.

Filius cleared his throat, and a sudden tension filled the air. Minerva instantly knew without looking that it was forty-six minutes past eleven, and that nine years ago on this night, at this instant, she had lost one of the most important relationships she had ever had. Minerva's old wound ached badly and she felt tears form in her eyes. Her friends gathered close and they all bowed their heads, silent.

_It is time for you to share your light with the world…_

"Lumos," Minerva whispered. Her wand-tip ignited, casting a bright light. Minerva lifted the wand high over her head and stared at it, its tip joining the millions of stars above her. One by one, first Septima, then Poppy, Filius, and finally Pomona and Rolanda, did the same.

"You gave me your friendship and your trust," Minerva said softly. "I miss you. My dear friend, I don't think I will ever stop missing you."

"You gave me the greatest career I could ever hope for."

"You believed in me unconditionally."

"You gave me hope when I gave up."

"You gave me a second chance, even though I didn't deserve it."

"You gave me my first P, and I did deserve it."

They all laughed softly, gazing up at the lit wands, glittering among the stars. Then, very quietly, Filius lowered his and whispered, "Orchideous." A bouquet popped out of the tip of his wand. He handed a flower to each of the teachers, and then took his own and released it onto the breeze. With a graceful wave of his wand, the stem vanished, and petals began to drift lazily towards the tomb.

As they copied him, a stream of flower petals, bleached by moonlight, wove through the air to swoop around the white marble once, and soar off over the lake.

Minerva heard a sniffle over her shoulder and looked about. Pomona was crying, tears running down her cheeks, though her smile could not have been wider. Minerva lowered her wand and moved to hug the sweet little woman, who quickly pulled her in.

"We've missed you," Pomona told her, embracing Minerva tightly.

When Minerva walked into _her_ office early the next morning, from her private quarters, a large gray owl sat on the windowsill waiting to be let in. She frowned. A letter that came before the regular post? She pointed her wand at the window, which opened. The owl fluttered inside and landed on her desk.

As Minerva got closer she saw that the creature had a St. Mungo's cuff on its leg. Her heart stopped for a moment as she loosed the scroll and the owl took off. She opened the scroll hesitantly, but breathed again when she recognized the writing as Ron Weasley's.

_Professor—_

_Hermione wanted to tell you right away, so here we are. A little before midnight last night, Hermione had the baby. She's doing really well, and so's our_ (here several words had been scribbled out, as though Ron couldn't quite figure out what he wanted to say, though Minerva could only think of a few possible word choices)_ daughter, Rose._

_We've picked her first name, obviously, but the reason I'm writing is to tell you that her middle name is Minerva, and we'd like to ask you to be her godmother. I know it would mean a lot to Hermione, _(there were more crossings-out) _and personally, if my daughter turned out half as brave as you, I think she'd be able to take on anything._

_Anyway, hoping you'll say yes,_

_Ron, Hermione,_

_and Rose Minerva Weasley_

A wide smile broke across Minerva's face as she read. She felt tears form in her eyes, and she gave a sudden laugh that could have been a sob of joy. Rose Minerva Weasley, and she would be the most brilliant witch Hogwarts had ever seen. Minerva sat down and hastily composed a reply, slipping it into her robes to send off when she went to breakfast.

A sudden thought struck her. _Share your light with the world…_ Minerva was not fond of the idea of the whole world, but perhaps, one small part of it. One tiny part, with the unmistakable red hair, the sharp brown eyes, or maybe the clear blue ones…that one part, she could pass herself on to.

She reached into her drawer and pulled out the pages she had written the day before. Seizing a scrap of parchment, Minerva wrote,

_To be given to Rose Minerva Weasley, on the day of her seventeenth birthday: A remembering composed by her loving godmother on the day of her birth._

_May the memories collected here serve not only as a reminder to honor the past and hope for a brighter future, but also, most importantly, to never lose track of the present. Find joy in friendship, take comfort in its arms, and always, always be ready to learn something new about yourself._

_Break old habits, change old meanings, and become a better person for it._

_Your godmother,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

Minerva tucked the scrap into the twine. June the twenty-first…it was not such a terrible day. She smiled to herself and placed the pages in her drawer once again.

"What do you think of that, Albus?" she asked the office at large. The sleeping portraits did not answer, but a flash of gold flickered past the window, almost indistinguishable from the rising sun reflecting through the glass.


	3. Teddy Lupin by Random Sox

**Alone Together**

**by: Random Sox (Kate)**

**House: Ravenclaw**

**Character: Teddy Lupin**

_Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave._

_ No_

_ one was saved. _

_All the lonely people, _

_Where do they all come from? _

_All the_

_ lonely people, _

_Where do they all belong_

_ -Eleanor Rigby, The Beatles_

Music,

lights, dancing, laughter.

(It's all too much)

Teddy Lupin walks from

the celebration his god father holds every year with his turquoise topped head

in his hands.

(Yet again too weak to stay)

Happiness on this day, it makes him

angry. It shouldn't be allowed. It's just not respectful.

(Anger, that's better

than grief; or jealousy. Jealous of the ones you love)

This is the day so many

people died; so many families were torn apart by one man; one man and his sick,

twisted views.

(So many families, your family, your REAL family)

Teddy sits out

in the garden, far enough away that he doesn't hear the party. He lets the

cool, damp grass calm his emotions.

(Sitting alone again)

Silent tears start to

fall thick and fast from his eyes as his hair turns a midnight black. Colour

shouldn't be allowed, not today.

(Crying alone again)

He shouldn't be out here.

If they were alive they would be walking down the garden and putting their arms

around their son. They would be giving him words of comfort and drying his

tears with their sleeves. But he's alone.

(Maybe because no-one wants you)

Teddy thinks of his family.

(A family that took you in because they feel sorry

for you)

He thinks of his god father Harry, and how kind he is to Teddy.

Harry treats him like he's one of his own children.

(But it's all an act; you're not

really his son)

He thinks of his god siblings, how James is always up for a

game of Quidditch. How Albus goes to Teddy first for advice and how Lily always

wants a bedtime story, even if she's going on 16 now.

(But it's all an act; you' re

not really their brother)

He thinks of his many god cousins,

of Rose and her brains,

of Hugo and his muggle obsession, of Fred and his pranks, of Roxanne

and her Quidditch, of Molly and Lucy and their rebellious tendencies, of Dom

and her looks, of Louis and his inappropriate crushes.

(But it's all an act;

you're not really their cousin)

He thinks of his girlfriend Victorie, she makes

him feel like he really is a part of the family. When he's with her it's like

he is supposed to be there, not just an outsider looking in on a family

gathering. She is his everything.

(And you are hers, there is no denying that.

Fate gives you that much)

Teddy looks up to see Uncle George walking toward him.

His posture is casual but his eyes are raking Teddy's face, carefully taking in

Teddy's reaction to his sudden and uninvited appearance.

(Does George

look tired?)

Uncle George sits down next to Teddy,

he doesn't say a word but he

knows Teddy prefers it that way. His steady and silent presence relaxes Teddy

more than the cool, damp grass he is sitting on.

(That man, he just

understands you. He's known loss too)

After a while Teddy feels comfortable to

explain why he is sitting alone by the flower beds at the bottom of the garden.

George already knows but he feels he has to explain again, just to make sure.

(Taking really does help you know)

And George listens to him; all his emotions

venerable on his face and tears start again in the young man's eyes. Teddy

explains why he can't face the party and why he feels alone and why no one can

help him.

(But George is helping you, just listening to you is helping. You

almost feel human again)

But uncle George has known great sadness on this day

and that is while the usually carefree uncle is not at the party with the

music, or the lights, or the dancing, or the laughter.

(For him it's also all

too much)

Finally when Teddy is done venting his feelings uncle George opens

his mouth to speak, obviously picking his words cautiously. "I think" George

started, "you are right, but you are also wrong. A great many died today but

they dies to make sure no one else would. That is reason for the others to

celebrate, just not for the people who have lost who are most important to

them. So its ok for us to grieve but it's also ok for them to celebrate,

because they can see the light in the darkness Teddy, but its fine that you can' t

yet see. That we can't yet see." Uncle George falls silent and both men get

lost in their thoughts.

(Sitting along together)

(Crying alone together)

(Accepting alone together)

(Remembering alone together)

(Finding a small solace

in the fact they are alone together)


	4. George Weasley by Martine Lewis

**The Year After**

**by: Martine Lewis**

**House: Ravenclaw**

**Character: George Weasley**

**Setting: Post DH**

Thursday April 1, 1999

"Hurry, hurry! George will be here any minute now!" said Mrs Weasley, putting the final touch to the table which was full of George's favourite food.

All the family, at the insistence of Mrs Weasley, had gathered to celebrate George's birthday. Even Ginny had been pulled from school for the occasion, and Mrs Weasley had made it abundantly clear that her children's attendance was not an option. Everybody knew how hard this birthday celebration would be for George and had not had the courage to fight Mrs Weasley, who also found it hard to celebrate on April 1 without the presence of one of her sons.

They had gathered in the living room, with some of George's Hogwarts friends, and were waiting for George to arrive. Time trickled by, and George was not there. After an hour, everybody began to look at their watch, worried. The food on the table was growing cold and George had yet to make an appearance.

"He will be here any minute now," said Mrs Weasley, with a sad smile.

A few minutes later, Angelina stood up and walked to Mrs Weasley.

"Mrs Weasley, let me go see what's holding him," she said gently.

During the last few months, Angelina and George had grown close.

"That would be lovely, dear," said Mrs Weasley.

Angelina walked to the fireplace and threw Floo powder on the fire.

"Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," she called, as she walked into the fireplace.

The Wheezes was deserted. Not only was it deserted, it was closed, even at this early hour, which was very unusual. Angelina made her way to the stairs and climbed to the first floor, where George's living quarters were situated.

George was there, sitting on the floor, visibly drunk. With a shaking hand, he was pouring himself a Firewhiskey and once his glass was full to the point of overflowing, poured some more in the already full glasses across from him. The liquid spilled from the glass onto the table, and then to the floor. His hand still shaking, George put back the bottle on the table with a loud bang.

"George," called Angelina softly.

"I keep on drinking and I keep on pouring, but his glass never gets empty. Why isn't he drinking with me, Angelina? It's our birthday! He should be drinking with me!" slurred George.

"Oh! George," she said sadly, sitting next to him and pushing the glass of Firewhiskey away from him. "I know... I wish he was here to drink with you too."

"Angelina, it should have been me," said George, tears running down his eyes. "He should have been the one to survive. He would have known what to do to get better. He would have known how to survive without me."

"I think he would have been as lost as you," she said gently, taking him in her arms.

"How can that be?" he asked, breaking down in distress, sobs shaking his body. "He was the one who always knew what to do... he was the one with all the plans," he added, holding on to her.

"Shush George. It will be okay... It will be okay."

As he sobbed against her shoulder, Angelina took her wand and called forth her Patronus. She sent a message to the Weasleys, informing them there would not be any celebration that night.

gwgwgwgwgwgwgw

Monday May 3, 1999

The crowd was slowly gathering on Hogwarts' grounds for the first year anniversary of the end of the Second Wizarding War. An area, near Dumbledore's resting place, had been set, with white wooden chairs facing the lake and a white stage facing the school. Mourners, mostly wearing black, except for Luna and her father who were dressed in bright yellow, were discussing quietly among themselves. More than a few had tissues in their hands and tears in their eyes.

Ron did not look forward to the ceremony. He remembered very well how, a month ago, his brother reacted to the loss of his twin and was wary of his reaction on this day of collective mourning. He looked around to try and find him, but could not see him anywhere.

"Hermione, have you seen George?"

Hermione, who was standing next to him, looked around then shook her head.

"I don't like this," said Ron.

"Ron, he'll be fine," said Hermione.

"We all thought that on his birthday and look what happened."

"He's been doing better for the last month," she said gently. "Have a little faith."

A few moments later, Minister Shacklebolt walked on the stage, effectively silencing the mourners who took their seat. George arrived at a run and took his seat next to Ron.

"Alright, George?" asked Ron.

George nodded and turned his attention to the Minister.

"On this day, we gather here to celebrate, but also to mourn. Had it not been for the courage of all who were involved, we wouldn't be here today. We would be fighting for our lives in a world filled with darkness."

The Minister went on, prizing the valour of all involved and recognizing the sacrifice of many. He reminded everybody why the war had been fought.

"We have gathered here today to celebrate our heroes and mourn our lost friends. Let us keep a moment of silence in honour of our lost ones," he concluded.

As silence descended on the crowd, a fizzling sound could be heard, followed by another one, and then a sparkling sound, and a loud bang. Everybody looked around, searching where the sounds had come from.

"Look, Mummy," said a small boy, pointing towards the lake.

The crowd turned as one in the direction of the lake, just in time to hear another fizzling sound followed by a bright red firework which wrote 'Remember'. A moment later, a full blown Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs exploded all over the lake and, every so often, instead of its usual profanities, the names of the fallen would be spelled out in bright colours.

Smiles slowly appeared on the mourners' faces, smiles mixed with tears as each of the names appeared. While the occasion was indeed sad, the fireworks seemed to make the crowd realise that someone, somewhere, had taken the time to create this display of joy in remembrance of the fallen. The message was clear: the fallen may have died, but was it not for their sacrifice, nobody would be able to find joy.

As the fireworks progressed, people began to laugh and applaud, timidly at first, and then enthusiastically. Ron turned to his brother and found a wide grin on his face.

"You did this, didn't you?"

"Of course, little brother!" answered George, keeping his eyes on the display. "Fred would have hated to see all of us cry like that... He would have definitely wanted a firework. So I told myself I might as well provide one for everybody."

"George, this is brilliant!" said Hermione, smiling widely.

"Son," said Mr Weasley, approaching George.

He looked up at his son with a proud smile on his face.

"You could not have done better," he finally said.

George grinned at his dad. Fred may be dead, but Angelina was right: he would have wanted everybody to celebrate, everyday, until the day they joined him in death.

**Author's Notes:** I would like to give a special thanks to my beta Lilly103 for taking the time to review my story.

Oh! And let's not forget that I don't own Harry Potter and the Potterverse. It is all property of JK Rowling.


	5. Scorpius Malfoy by Roslintower

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

**What Friends Are For**

**by: Roslintower (Roslin)**

**House: Slytherin**

**Character: Scorpius Malfoy**

It had been three years. Three years since he'd last seen her, three years since she had married someone else, three years since she'd broken his heart. And now she was inviting him back into her life, in the form of a fancy invitation to 'Lorc and Rose's Second Wedding Anniversary Party'.

Scorpius Malfoy scowled at the invitation in question. It lay there on his coffee table innocently, but Scorpius wasn't fooled.

'I know you're out to get me!' he yelled at it, pointing a shaking finger at the limp piece of pink card. 'Rose wouldn't invite me to her party; she hasn't spoken to me in three years! I know you're some kind of prank to –

There was a sharp knock on his door, but before Scorpius could even take a step towards it, the door opened, and Lucy Weasley stepped in.

Scorpius blinked. He seemed to be frozen on the spot where he stood, staring at Lucy as she took off her leather jacket and sat down on his couch without invitation. 'You know, I don't remember giving you the keys to my apartment.'

Lucy smiled. 'That's because you didn't.'

'Oh. That would explain it.'

'That would,' agreed Lucy. He didn't say anything. She didn't anything. Silence reigned for a few minutes.

'Just ask the question, Scorpius.'

Scorpius stuck his tongue out at her, then mentally kicked himself for doing so. _You're a twenty-three year old man, and you just stuck your tongue out at a woman who, incidentally, is not all that unattractive. No wonder your mother's given up on the hope of having grandchildren._

'How did you get in?' he asked. 'I put alarms both Muggle and magical on that door just yesterday.'

Lucy smiled again, a faint green beginning to sparkle in her blue-grey eyes. 'The door was unlocked, blockhead.'

…

'Sooo,' Lucy said, drawing out the 'o'. 'How's everything been going? Anything interesting happen while I was gone?'

'Uh, yeah, actually something did.'

'Spill.'

'Rose invited me to her anniversary party,' he told her casually, tossing the invitation to Lucy across the table. Lucy stared at him, eyes piercing through him over the coffee table. She picked up the invitation, scanned it quickly, and dropped it just as quickly onto the floor.

'You're still in love with her,' she stated, her eyes shimmering with something wet. Resolutely, she blinked it away. Scorpius didn't notice, he was too busy fiddling with the end of his tie.

'Yes,' he said, not meeting her gaze. She sighed, the last of the green fading from her eyes.

'Scorpius,' Lucy said, leaning forward. 'Rose is married; she has been for three years.'

'I know that, Lucy.'

'She hasn't seen you since she – she –

'I know.'

Lucy stared at him, then sighed again. 'You're still going to miserable whatever I say and whoever I set you up with?'

'Yes, I am.'

'Okay.' She took a deep breath, and then jumped off the metaphorical cliff. 'Okay, then. Let's go get her back.'

Scorpius looked up. 'What?'

'You heard me.'

'I thought I did. I'm sorry, but did you say we were going to get Rose back?'

Lucy rolled her eyes. She was determined to do this, for his happiness, and besides, who cared if her own happiness was shredded to pieces in the process? 'Yeah, we are. She used to be in love with you, right? We'll make fall back in love with you, and leave Scamander.'

She stood up, pulling Scorpius up with her. 'You need a haircut.'

She flicked Scorpius' tie, checked the label on his shirt, and clicked her tongue. 'You also need a new wardrobe. In fact –

Stepping back, Lucy scrutinised him. He felt as if he was under one of those Muggle X rays.

'You need a new everything,' she announced, her hands on her hips.

'What for?'

'For Rose's anniversary party, silly. Now come with me.'

'But –

'No buts,' she said, in a manner very reminiscent of her grandmother. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him out of the door, locking it behind her with her wand.

Outside, Scorpius freed his arm from her grasp. She stopped, turning back to him.

'Lucy, why are you doing this?'

She hated him then, really, really hated him for putting her in that position. He didn't know that today was the fourth anniversary of the day she had fallen for him. _I'm doing it because I'm in love with you, and I want you to be happy. Because I know I'll never be able to be what Rose was to you._

She didn't tell him any of that. She just swiped her tears away fiercely, green flashing brightly in her eyes. 'Dude. You're my best friend, and this is what friends are for, yes?'


	6. Fred Weasley by Phoenixic24

**Romance at the Burrow **

**by: Phoenixica (Jessi)**

**House: Gryffindor **

**Character: Fred Weasley.**

Sunlight flowed over the rundown yet homey house called the Burrow. And it was like a burrow, with a large family and many rooms and halls and stairways. But it was also a happy place. And peaceful, but only for the moment.

Everyone inside was asleep, or, at least quiet enough to maybe be asleep, as Fred Weasley awoke. He looked across the room at the mirror their mother had insisted on so they didn't "just roll out of bed and head on out one day", which they now did every day. The one purpose it served for the twins was so they could see each other when they were both in bed.

Now, it showed Fred that George was still sleeping. He smirked and leapt lightly out of bed, landing catlike on the floor. He sneaked outside and slowly strolled into the fields before picking up his pace, running until he was flying along the track he'd found a few days ago. This was his one secret from the rest of the family. His one private moment.

The track curved around all too soon, and he was back at the Burrow. He sneaked inside and went to go and change. George awoke as his brother yanked a shirt over his head. Stretching and yawning, he grabbed a pole from the ceiling beside him and chucked it at his twin.

"Wide awake, huh? As always. Too good to sleep in now?" he teased.

Fred tossed the pole back. "Whatever."

"Aww, c'mon. What is it?" George asked.

"Haven't you noticed how Mum and Dad are always looking after us, and not spending any time together since before Gin was born?"

"Yeah..."

"Their anniversary's coming up."

"We gonna prank it?"

"No. We're gonna make it special!"

"We're gonna prank it."

"We're gonna prank it romantically."

"As long as we're pranking it, I don't care!" George whooped.

"SHHHH!" Fred scolded. "It's in three days! We have to hurry!"

"Are we gonna let Ronniekins and Gin help?"

"If they want to." Fred conceded after a moment.

The twins dressed and quickly went down to breakfast.

"Hey." Ron said, without looking up from his sausages. "Mum says you two have to de-gnome the garden today."

"Where's Gin?" Fred asked.

"Taking care of the chickens. Why?"

"We gotta talk to you two. We're gonna prank Mum and Dad in three days. We need your help."

"ALL RIGHT!" Ron yelped.

"Meet us out in the garden in ten minutes. Bring Gin. _Don't_ say a word to Mum or Dad. Got it?" Fred asked.

"Yessir!" Ron shoved his plate away and bolted.

"He actually left his food. Amazing." George commented.

The twins ate a quick breakfast and darted outside. They scuffled for a brief moment, simply for old times' sake, as they used to fight over who started the de-gnoming. Fred lost, right as Ron and Ginny showed up. He pushed George off of him and stood. "C'mere," he beckoned his siblings.

"Is Percy going to help?" Ginny asked.

"If he wants. If you tell him, make sure Mum and Dad can't hear." George told his little sister.

"Okay, Weasleys, listen up!" Fred barked, sounding remarkably like his father. "We need the talents of everyone here to pull this off. We are going to make Mum and Dad's anniversary in three days something special. It will be _romantic_ for them. Got it?"

He continued as the others nodded. "Ron, we need you to distract them whenever we tell you. Or if we give the signal."

"What signal?" Ron asked.

"We'll establish one later. In a moment." George promised, seeing the crestfallen look on Ron's face.

"Yes. Ginny, we need a girl's idea of romantic. George and I will set things up, since we are the only ones who can do magic. No, Ron, no wand, no magic. You haven't gone to Diagon Alley yet."

Ron huffed. "Signal?" he asked.

"Gnome." George offered, holding up a gnome.

All four Weasleys laughed and agreed for that to be their signal to Ron.

"We start now." Fred intoned. "As we all de-gnome the garden."

They each picked a section of the garden and started working. Mrs. Weasley was inside cleaning, and Mr. Weasley was at work. The children were alone. No one knew where Percy was, and no one really cared. Or even noticed.

"So, Gin, what's your idea of a perfect anniversary?" Fred asked.

"Hmmm...I would like flowers and a fancy dinner." she answered carefully.

"What's Mum's favorite flowers, colors, and foods?" George asked.

"Red roses, red and gold-she's a Gryffindor, duh!, and I don't know. She seems to like an awful lot of foods."

"I know!" Ron broke in. "She likes chocolates!"

"So we have to get red and gold decorations, chocolates, and roses? That's expensive." George said carefully. They all sat and stared at one another. Then Fred said, "We can pick roses somewhere in the fields where she won't notice, and mix some other flowers in. Changing colors of things isn't hard-I can do that. The only things we'll have to buy are chocolates. And dinner?"

"Hire a house-elf for a day?" George suggested. "Only Mum cooks, you know that."

"Who says she can't? She will know it's their anniversary, so she'll probably make something special. All we have to do is get her out long enough to set it up so it looks fancy. I know where her fancy china is, if you promise not to drop anything, I'll show you later today. There's a bowl that would be perfect for chocolates. But what kind are we going to get?" Ginny commented.

"Hmmm...something nice that we can afford. We can pool our allowances and Ginny and I can go to town. Maybe I can earn something by doing magic tricks or whatever." Fred grunted as he hurled the last gnome over the wall.

"Wow, that certainly went by faster than usual." Ron remarked.

"That it did, little brother. Go tell Mum we're done and going to town and we'll be back for lunch. Everyone else, bring your allowances. Meet in our room." George told them.

Alone in their room, Fred turned to his twin. "So?"

"So what?" George asked.

"What do you think? It'll be lots of work to keep this secret, and we only have three days to pull this together."

"I think it's nice that you're trying to do something sweet for our parents, and even if something goes wrong, it's the thought that counts. As long as we're careful, nothing should go wrong." George replied. "Don't worry."

Ginny and Ron burst into their room in a panic. "Percy!" Ron hissed.

"Easy." George said, flicking his wand. The door slammed shut in the eldest brother's face, and the lock clicked.

They pooled their money, and didn't need to be told that it was pitiful.

After much discussion, they decided on extra chores for the next three days. Ginny would polish the fancy china, Ron would do everyone's normal chores when Mum wasn't looking, and Fred and George would go to town every day to try and earn the money they needed.

By this time, it was late, so Fred and George left, and Percy caught Ginny sneaking into the pantry.

"MUM!" he cried. Mrs. Weasley was upset with her only daughter and youngest child, and grounded her for a week.

"But Mum, I was only-" Ginny protested, then broke off mid-sentence. She couldn't give away their secret!

"Only what?"

"Nothing." the little redhead bowed her head in shame.

"To your rooms, both of you!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

As she went upstairs without further complaint, Ginny came up with a plan.

At dinner that night, she complained to her mother, "Mum, I don't feel good."

"What's wrong, Gin?" her mother asked.

"My tummy hurts." Ginny said, using her 'I'm a small, innocent little girl' voice.

"Oh, dearie, it'll feel better soon. Here," and she gave Ginny some awful-tasting medicine. "Now upstairs to bed. The more you rest, the sooner you'll feel better."

The three brothers who were in on 'The Plan' worried as they ate, and no one ate much. Mrs. Weasley sent everyone to bed early.

After making sure everyone else was asleep, Ginny crept out of her room and sneaked downstairs. She polished china until Fred came down for his run and sent her back to bed. She slept the day away while the others worked. She worked by night, and they worked by day, for the next two days.

On the day of their parents anniversary, Mrs. Weasley started dinner early, so the children had some time to work. Fred went out and bought the nice chocolates they had picked out the first day, barely affording a round dozen of them, and sneaked them into the house. He gave them to Ginny, who was arranging the china as Ron distracted Percy, as was the necessary addition to his job.

George was really sick, for real, and stayed in bed all day, also serving as a distraction. He would run to the bathroom every time anyone who was not in on the secret got too close to Ginny's hiding place.

Fred went out and gathered flowers from the beds Ginny had found the morning before and brought them to the window near Ginny's hiding place. He whistled softly, and Ron came running.

"Tell Ginny I have the flowers here." Fred whispered. Ron nodded and ran back off. He darted past his mother and ran for Ginny. Mrs. Weasley was steadily growing suspicious, but George went flying by with his hand over his mouth, and she backed off just long enough for Ron to warn both Ginny and George, so when she arrived, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Things got a little more complicated when Mr. Weasley got home, as he liked to talk with his children. All of them. Ron enlisted Percy without the latter's knowledge, and got them started talking about government. Then he could slip silently away, with no one the wiser.

The worst problem, of course, came last-minute. How were they going to get their parents out of the house long enough to transfigure the kitchen and set out the china with the chocolates and flowers?

George solved that problem without his knowledge. He accidentally tripped on the stairs and fell through a second-story window. He landed in the bushes below unhurt, not counting minor scrapes from the thorns, but terribly messy and sick. Both his parents went out to tend to him, and he signaled Fred, who was peering out an upstairs window, to get on with it, that he was fine.

Fred relayed George's message to the others and together, they shooed Percy outside as well. Or attempted to. They ended up locking him in his room and casting a Silencing Charm on his door.

Ginny rushed back and forth, not allowing anyone else to touch the china or food. Ron was allowed to carefully place the flowers on the table under her sharp eye, and then let their parents and George in another way, so they couldn't see the kitchen.

Fred transfigured the room into patterns of red and gold lions. Then they all ducked out the door, except for Ginny, who squeaked in panic as their parents descended the stairs and darted back in to light the candles everywhere.

They slipped in the back door and went quietly to their rooms.

The next morning, Fred went downstairs late, and found his mother singing at the stove.

"Hi, Mum."

"Hello, mister. Sit down, won't you?" she ordered. He gulped, they were in for it.

"Mum?"

"Your siblings spilled the beans this morning when they got up. What on earth possessed you to do all that? And go and spend your siblings allowances?"

"I just thought-cause you and Dad are always taking care of us or working or doing chores, and you're not in love anymore, that I wanted to help you fall back in love with each other and-"

"What makes you think that?" she asked in a deadly tone.

"You never talk to each other except for work, money, or us, and you never hug or kiss anymore." Fred whispered.

"How did you know yesterday was our anniversary?"

"I overheard Aunty talking about it on Gin's birthday last year." he replied.

"You silly boy," his mother laughed. "She was talking about my mum's anniversary! Your father's and my anniversary was months ago!"

Fred blushed. "Sorry, Mum." he muttered.

"That's all right, honey. Now you know, and it was a very special dinner last night. It's nice to know you thought of it, and it's the thought that counts. Now go on, your father has something for you."

Fred went outside and gasped. All his siblings, even Percy, were flying around on new-to them, anyway-brooms! His father stood to one side and held out the last one to Fred.

"Saved the best for last, son. Thank you for last night." he hugged his son and stood back as Fred soared into the air to play Quidditch with his brothers and sister.


	7. Severus Snape by greencyanide

**The April Birthday/Anniversary challenge**

**by: **_**greencyanide **_**(Sanjana)**

**House:Ravenclaw**

**Character : Severus Snape**

"What do you want for your birthday, Sev?" Lily asked for the third time that day.

Severus did not even look up from his book. "You can give me anything," he replied monotonously.

Lily groaned. "You are soo hard to shop for!"

"I just said that you can give me anything. In what world does that make me hard to shop for?"

"You won't understand."

"And why is that?"

"Because I always blurt out what I want and you just buy it and look so smug."

Severus laughed. "Even if you didn't let it slip, I would still buy perfect gifts."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is that so? Then I would have to be extra careful this year and_ not_ let it slip."

Severus shrugged.

"It's just lucky that your birthday is on a Hogsmeade weekend," said Lily, picking up her bag.

"Why? So that you can buy the gift in the nick of time?"

"You'll see," said Lily and walked back to the castle.

_~o0o~_

Severus counted the coins in his wallet. Twelve Galleons and twenty seven Sickles seemed enough to afford a small treat for two at Honeydukes, but he could never be sure because every time he had been to that shop, he had ended up having a burning hole in his pocket. There was not way he would run out of funds today, he thought as he pulled out his trunk from under the bed.

Wrenching open the rusty container, he groped through the layers of clothes, until his hands found a leathery surface. He took the ancient, dog-eared book out of its refuge and ran a finger down its spine. The book murmured lightly and opened slowly in his hand. Delicately sifting through the yellowing pages, he extracted a small envelope. On it, in a long hand, full of swashes, his name was written.

Setting aside the churning sentiments, which, he had no time for, he put back the old book in its place and shut his trunk.

"What have you there, Snape?"

The origin of his agility was quite unknown to him, but when you spend years deceiving your father, dodging his boot and knowing the exact words that would appease him, it is evident that you end up with an unfaltering habit of thinking on your feet.

"Just a letter from Mum," he said matter-of-factly, stuffing the envelope deep inside his pocket.

McLeod was either too busy figuring out how to use his newly acquired Self-Shuffling Cards, or he simply did not care enough to pursue the subject.

"See you," said Severus, moving across the room in quick, long steps, which, he considered, were not quick enough.

_~o0o~_

"Where were you? Almost everyone has left! The Three Broomsticks will be full to the brim by now," said Lily, frowning.

Severus shook his head. "Three Broomsticks is always crowded, isn't it? And I was thinking of going to Honeydukes."

"Your birthday, your call. But I don't think Honeydukes is any better. Oh, and wait till you see your gift, Sev. Your jaws would drop to the ground."

"Is it that necessary? I kind of need those to eat, you know."

From Lily's conceited smile, Severus guessed it must be a good book, or maybe that Potions Kit he had been eyeing when they had shopped for their books in Diagon Alley last year. Oh Merlin, it was very expensive; he hoped Lily had not bought it. Lily was only partially correct when she had said he never 'let it slip', because he was sure anyone could buy a good present for him as he spent a lot of time goggling at the windows whenever he was in Diagon Alley.

Honeydukes, indeed, was thronging with Hogwarts students, who were shouting orders at the handful of frantic Honeydukes employees. Without wasting any time, Severus briskly pushed Lily through the crowd to the farthest table in the shop.

"You hold down our seats, I'll get some sweets," said Severus, and disappeared among the students before Lily could protest. The spotty teenager behind the counter was sweating, even though it was snowing outside and he was literally panting when he asked, "What can I get for you?"

Severus quickly bought a large chunk of creamy nougat, Chocolate Frogs and a box of Turkish Delights and carried them over to their table. When he had sat down and laid the food on the table, he finally saw what Lily was wearing for the first time; he must have been too busy calculating what he could afford from Honeydukes on their way to the village to notice before.

"Lily, you look amazing," he said, a bit too huskily as he tried to restrain his eyes from roving greedily over

Lily's powder blue dress. The little patch of neck visible below her fur jacket was snowy white and delicate; Severus' stomach gave a jolt. He hope Lily would not notice what a wolf he had become lately, he thought dropping his gaze to the food.

"Thanks, Severus." Lily's voice was unabashed. Sometimes Severus wondered if her easy replies were a result of unperturbed innocence, or maybe she felt something of like he felt. Being self-effacing as always, Severus found the first option more credible.

"So, dig in," he said, pushing the plate towards Lily.

"Yes, let's," she said. "I have to take you to your present after this."

"Isn't it usually the other way round? I was kind of used to the idea of the presents coming to _me_."

"Well, it's hidden safely somewhere."

Severus raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. "What have bought?"

"Not spoiling the surprise," said Lily, biting into a Chocolate Frog.

Even though he would have liked to spend some more time with Lily in Honeydukes, in the shelter of the unknown crowd, his plan was cut short as they saw the Marauders walk in. "Let's move, Sev. I don't want them to spoil our day," said Lily as James made a dramatic entrance, changing all the bright, yellow lights into red.

Packing up the remaining treats in a large handkerchief Lily had pulled out of her bag, they walked out of the shop before the four miscreants could see them; or more importantly, before James could ask Lily to spend the day with him. Severus was sure he would have resorted to the nastiest spells he knew if he had done so. Today was his birthday and no one deserved to spend the day with Lily more than him.

"Sev? We're here," said Lily, shaking his arm.

"Wha-? Oh, right. Here? The Three Broomsticks? You're buying me a drink?"

Lily laughed. "Yes, that too if you insist. Come on, I have kept your gift with Madam Rosemerta."

Frowning, Severus followed Lily into the warm pub filled with chattering kids, although it was less crowded than Honeydukes. Lily walked up to Madam Rosemerta and whispered something in her ear. Madam Rosemerta, looked at Severus, who stood a few steps back, then back at Lily and nodded enthusiastically.

"Come on," said Lily, reappearing on his side. "This way."

Severus walked into a smaller room as Lily almost bobbed up and down, with a conspiratory grin plastered on her face. "Er…"

"Oh, look on the sofa. Your gift's there!"

Feeling highly suspicious by now, Severus walked over to the plush sofa and let out a gasp.

"What… this is… is it, really?"

Lily nodded fiercely. "Yes!"

With trembling fingers, Severus unwrapped the brown package. As the paper came off, he saw the shining golden letters. _Nimbus Fifteen Hundred._

"Lily, I can't…" he began, but was hushed as his fingers traced the sleek oakwood handle. "It's beautiful," he whispered.

Lily sat down beside him. "I'm so glad I finally gave you a gift that took your breath away."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "That's not true, Lily. Every gift you give me is very special."

He admired the broom for another five minutes, in awed silence. Finally, as Lily rested her hand on his arm, he pulled his eyes away from it.

"Lily, I can't…" he began again.

Lily's eyes flashed. "Why? Why can't I give you a gift you like?"

"Because it's too expensive."

"No it's not," said Lily. "It's not much, really!"

"Well, it's more than I can afford," said Severus frankly.

Lily blushed. "I didn't mean to… Severus, I would be really hurt if you don't take it. I have been planning it for weeks. And you always give such nice gifts."

Which are worth one hundredth of this broom, thought Severus, but didn't say it aloud. He wished Lily could understand his dilemma. He hated being poor, and Lily giving him gifts he couldn't even dream of having was a little insulting.

Lily must have read his thoughts because she said,"Sev, please listen to me. I am your friend aren't I? Best friend?"

Severus nodded reluctantly.

"Then can't we please stop thinking of price tags? I thought you don't care about that, Sev."

"I don't, but that doesn't mean anything comes for free."

After a while, he looked at Lily soberly. "All right. I am keeping it. But only if you promise to take what I am about to give you."

Lily looked surprised. "Oh come on now, do we really need to start this return gift business?"

"No, it's not a return gift. I had wanted to give it to you on your birthday, but I… did not want to give it in front of – everyone," he said, editing the word 'Gryffindors' in the last second.

He put his hand inside his jacket and pulled out the small envelope and deposited it in Lily's hand.

"What is it?" asked Lily.

"Open it."

So she did. A silver chain fell on her lap. Curious, she took it up and held it in the light. From the chain hung an ornate locked with a large, glittering emerald fitting snugly between the silver irises. Below the rock, there was a Chimaera head, looking fierce and proud.

"What is it?" whispered Lily.

"It's the Prince heirloom. From Mum's side, you know. It is supposed to have protective enchantments. I want you to have it," said Severus, closely following Lily' reaction.

Lily's eyes widened. "But, Sev… I can't possibly have an heirloom… I'm a… different family," her surprise made it difficult to string together a sentence. "No, your… your wife and children should have it in the future."

Severus wished he could say what he wanted to say. But instead, he replied, "My mother gave it to me. It's mine and I'm free to give it to anyone I wish."

Lily swallowed and for a moment Severus thought she would burst into tears. But before he could say anything, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him with the strength he had put past her. He held her tightly, wishing the moment would never pass.

_~o0o~_

"Lily, dear! Come down, James will be here any minute. The boy is engaging but I never seem to be able to keep up a conversation with him!"

Mrs. Evans' voice echoed through the stairway and Lily heard her even though the door of her room was shut tight. She wanted to reply, but seemed to have lost her voice. She couldn't even muster the strength to move to her bed. Tears were streaming down her cheek and falling on the paper in big drops, blotting a gaudy advertisement at the bottom of the page. The faced in the photos moved impassively, unaware of the reason they were printed for. But there was a certain gloom about them, even though many had been taken years ago. Her eyes were frozen on the medium sized photo in the far corner of the page; the person inside looked unhappy, indecisive, as if his mind was far away from the photo.

The headline read, _'FORMER HOGWARTS STUDENTS TURNED DEATH EATERS RAVAGE MUGGLE HOME IN YORKSHIRE: FIVE KILLED'._

Lily's had collapsed on the floor the moment she had unfurled the copy of The Daily Prophet. Her recurrent shudders left her weak and she had stuffed her fist into her mouth to stop from howling when she had seen the picture of Severus Snape on the suspects' list. This is not true, she had chanted for almost an hour. Even though she had held the paper in her hand, she had not dared to read a single word. _Not Sev…_

She dropped the paper and laid down on the floor, concentrating on each breath to make sure she did not faint. Her owl had been watching her silently, now he gave a light hoot. She stared unseeingly out of the sunlit window.

Suddenly some agonizing fury grasped Lily. It suffocated her, as she sat up and started hunting in her wardrobe. Digging through a pile of old clothes, her hand touched something cold. She pulled the object out.

Clutching it in her hand, she stormed out of her room and down the stairs, out of the front gate.

"Lily! Where are you going? James-"

Lily cut in her mother. "He can wait," she said vehemently.

She ran all the way to the park, stumbling, blinded by her angry tears. No one rode the old swings any more – the rusty chains were twisted and knotted, the seats broken. She ran past the swings, past the thicket of bushes in the far corner of the park, past the trees. She was kneeling on the ground, panting and gasping for breath when she finally reached the river. Her heart squirmed at the recognition of the small clearing_. It was our place… _

Staggering to her feet, she took a last look at the chain in her hand. The locket had not tarnished, the Chimaera still as fierce and proud as it had been the day she had first held it in her hand. Swinging her hand with all her might, she threw it far into the water. The heavy locket dropped with a splash in the whispering water.

"Lily!"

She turned around quickly. James was struggling out of the bushes, looking wary.

"You mother told me you had gone out. I saw you running through the park. Is- Is everything all right?"

Lily's tear-stained, blotchy face looked resolute. "Yes, I'm quite all right. Just came to say goodbye to a friend."

James frowned, perplexed. For almost a minute they stood there in silence. James, realizing he would not get any more explanation, finally nodded. "Okay, then. Shall we- shall we go?"

Lily walked past him back to park. "Just give me five minutes to change, James."

James was not convinced though. "Do you want to do this some other day?"

Lily turned to face him. "Of course not, silly. There's no reason we should postpone our date."

Her smile sent a chill down James's spine.


	8. Sirius Black by Blonde Pickle Mule

**Only a Year**

**by: Blonde Pickle Mule (Bridget)**

**House: Hufflepuff**

**Character: Sirius Black**

Potter manor really was a striking building, Sirius mused, though not at all like Grimmauld place; his parent's house. The vast London house he had grown up in was dark and dank, evil objects lining the cracked glass cabinets, and even the musty sofas oozed hostility. Potter manor on the other hand was open and beautiful, lived in and loved.

It was a year since Sirius had run away from home, and sitting in the sweeping grounds of his best friend's (and now his) house while remembering his former residence, he didn't regret it a bit. As a child starting Hogwarts he would have been filled with misgivings over such an open act of rebellion, would have wondered if his thoughts of leaving, his..._different _way of thinking was why his parents didn't seem to love him. Now he was older, wiser, and he understood that his parents were bad people, and he didn't need their love to be happy in life.

It had been a hard pill to swallow, but once it had gone down Sirius had found himself happier, no longer hampered down by guilt over who he was. Leaving his house had just solidified that new-found freedom of self, and he'd gained a new family at the same time.

Yes, the Potters truly were the family that he'd never had. He and James were brothers in everything but blood, Mr and Mrs Potter caring and open and wonderful. From the moment he'd stepped into their home, a mess of anger, tears and loneliness, the Potters had shared everything with him- not just their house but the bonds that made them a family.

The sun, which had been warming him gently where he lay on the grass, was suddenly cut off by a lanky tousled haired shadow. James Potter flopped down onto the grass beside his friend, and for a time the two teenagers didn't say anything to one another. The silence was peaceful, comfortable, until Sirius softly cleared his throat.

"I've been thinking..." he began.

"Ooh, careful!" James grinned, his hazel eyes alight with mischief. Sirius glared at him half-heartedly, his own smile quirking at his lips.

"I've been thinking; it's a year today." He didn't have to say which anniversary he was talking about- James knew. A year living at Potter Manor...how quickly it had gone."It's strange really...I thought I'd feel something more."

James frowned at him, all mischief quelled in light of their topic of conversation. "I'm not sure what you mean, mate."

"I feel...detached when I think of that place. I thought I'd feel more anger or something- not this emptiness."

James nodded sagely, pushing his glasses up his nose. "It's all because of me of course," he stated proudly, giving Sirius a shrewd look. "Without my rapier wit and astonishing good looks, you'd still be wallowing in that pit of misery of yours."

"How did you get Lily to go out with you again?" Sirius laughed, digging James in the ribs. "I thought she said it was because your ego had shrunk, not swollen."

"Yes, because you'd know all about egos, wouldn't you Padfoot?" James muttered, his cheeks slightly pink at the mention of Lily. He flopped onto his back, worrying the hem of his robes between his fingers. "Blimey, it doesn't feel like a year; does it?"

Sirius untangled his legs from their folded position, stretching them out in front him with a sigh. "I can hardly believe we won't be going back to Hogwarts next year...we're going to have to find a _job._" He wrinkled his nose at the word.

"Are we?" James asked, grinning again. "I thought we were going to live off mum and dad for a bit- enjoy our freedom."

"Yeah, obviously, but we can't forever. I was thinking about being a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts, and you know how much training you need for that." James nodded thoughtfully, a frown creasing his eyebrows.

"I think I've decided on being an Auror- mum and dad have been badgering me to come to some sort of a decision, and I've got no idea what else I would be."

Sirius grinned, leaning heavily on the tree behind him. "Sounds like a plan. Remus wanted to look into something bookish last we spoke to him, and Peter wasn't really sure." He made a face. "He was thinking about being an Auror with you, but there's no way with those transfiguration scores of his. I thought you said you tutored him."

"Oy!" James looked indignant. "It's not my fault he's completely inept at it! Anyway, he did well in everything else, I'm sure he'll find something he likes."

At that moment one of the double glass doors at the back of the manor opened and a petite woman with curling brown hair and James' hazel eyes stepped onto the patio. "Boys- lunch is ready!" She called with a warm smile, before turning and heading back inside. Sirius hauled himself to his feet, rolling his eyes and holding out a hand to James who seemed to be struggling.

"Come on, I'm too hungry to be thinking about everything right now." He hauled his friend to his feet and together they made their way inside. As Sirius sat down at the table and greeted Mr and Mrs Potter, the warm glow of summer sunshine filtered in through the large double doors. Laughter and bright conversation filled the large room, smiling faces on either side of him. Mrs Potter fussed, Mr Potter teased her for it and James teased them both. Sitting back in his chair, Sirius reflected once more how good it was to have finally found 'Home'.


	9. Harry Potter Maxgab

_**The 15th**_

_**by:Maxgab (Maxine)**_

_**House: Ravenclaw**_

_**Character: Harry Potter**_

**Harry's PoV**

**10:30 A.M, 3days before anniversaries, Diagon Alley.**

I wandered through the streets of Diagon Alley, constantly looking at windows for things that Ginny may enjoy. With just three days before our 15th wedding anniversary, I was very troubled in looking for a gift.

The 1st year, I gave her a gold necklace with "Ginivera Potter" on it ; 2nd was a pair of crystal earrings ; 3rd was a new broom, with her name on it ; 4th was a pair of ruby slippers...

However, this was the 15th anniversary, and I wanted it to be special. Maybe the 15th wedding anniversary, to you, isn't very important, but this is special to me and Ginny. Very special. Our wedding anniversary is also the death anniversary of Cedric Diggory, and my victory of the tri-wizard tournament.

"Harry, Harry Potter?" a dark haired girl said, walking by me.

"Cho?" i recalled.

"Oh goodness, it really is you, Harry!" Cho hugged me.

"Yes, and It's been a long time since I last saw you, Cho." i replied with a smile.

"Shopping for your wedding anniversary?" Cho asked, kindly.

"Yes, you for... Cedric?" i asked carefully. I knew she loved Cedric to bits.

Tears filled in Cho's eyes, but she wiped them carefully. "Yes."

I quickly realized that she was crying lightly, "I'm sorry." I apologized.

"It's alright. I just... I just..." she was caught in words, speechless. This Hufflepuff was always like

this when it came to touchy subjects, like Cedric.

"Will i be seeing you at the party?" i asked.

"Oh, of course. And will you be at Cedric's grave?" she continued.

"With the kids." I answered clean and crisp.

"Oh, I really must be off now. Nice talking to you, Harry." Cho smiled.

"Yes, Me too. See you soon, Cho." i smiled back.

We parted ways and I continued walking, searching for a gift.

Then I saw a beautiful golden ring in a window. Ginny would love it.

I entered the store. "Excuse me, Mister, how much for the golden ring?" I asked.

"Free." a familiar voice said.

"Oh my god, Neville? That you?" I asked.

"Yes Harry. Happy Wedding Anniversary!" he said.

"Thank you, Neville." I said, "The ring, how much?"

"I told you, FREE old chum. I'll even carve in Ginny's name." he said.

"How'd you know it was for Gin?" I asked.

"Cho stopped by." he grinned.

"Oh My, what did she tell you?" I said sarcastically.

"You were shopping for Gin, and she was shopping for," he paused and gulped, not wanting me to have memories of that cold night, "_Cedric_."

My head flinched.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to-" he said.

"No, It's okay. Just, nightmares... you know... that night..." my voice trailed off. I couldn't even hear what I was saying.

"Bloody Hell Harry, should I Owl a doctor?" he said. I must have looked really bad.

"No, It's fine, the thoughts are gone." I said, standing straight, panting.

"Good. Here's the ring, all wrapped up." Neville handed me a box, which contained the ring. It was tied with a red ribbon.

"Thank you. May I ask... why are you running this store?"

"Oh! My friend who owned the store's son has a Quidditch match today at 4, and he won't make it if he comes in. So I came for him." Neville explained. Oh No, Lily, Al, and James' Quidditch Match!

"Thank you again, Neville. Got to Dash! Goodbye!" I said, running out the store. Ginny was waiting for me.

"Harry, let's go!" Ginny called.

"Coming love." I said, running towards her.

"So how as your day? Shopping, I mean." Ginny asked.

"Oh, wonderful. I saw Cho Chang." I said calmly, not wanting to reveal the surprise – the ring.

"We'll be late for the Quidditch match. We have to use the Floo Network." Ginny sighed.

"Sorry." I said, gently kissing her forehead.

Ginny floo-ed us to the Quidditch field of Hogwarts.

"'Mionie! Ron!" I waved to my brother and sister in-law... but like a real brother and sister to me.

"Hey Harry! Hello, Gin!" Ron waved, making space for us.

"Hey." Ginny said.

"Happy Wedding Anniversary!"

**Anniversary Day**

I was the first one to get up. At least that's what I thought.

Ginny was also up, so we went down to prepare breakfast together.

All of a sudden, as we entered the living room, a crowd yelled "SURPRISE!", and a huge banner saying "Happy 15th Wedding Anniversary Ginny and Harry" came down from the ceiling.

"Oh. My. God." Ginny gasped. I had expected nothing less from the extreme party planners, Fred, George, Sirius, Albus, and the Weasleys.

Hermoine and Ron came up first with their kids, holding a parcel.

"Happy Anniversary, guys." They said, as they hugged us, "This is for you."

"Thank you." I was sure Ginny had a tear in her eye.

Next up, Luna, Cho, Neville, George and Angelina came up with parcels.

"Thank you, guys." I said, hugging each one individually.

After the miles of guests, from Hagrid to Aberforth Dumbledore, it was my turn.

I knelt down on the ground, like a proposal, and pulled out the box. "15 years ago today, I proposed to you and you said yes. Now I want you to say yes to this gift, as if it were a proposal ring." I said, opening the box, revealing the necklace. "Curtsy of Neville." I smiled.

"Oh my, Harry! It's so beautiful. Thank you." she said, looking at it. I carefully placed it on her neck.

"Glad you liked it." I smiled. "Cheers to the most beautiful Lady i've ever met, no offence to any other girl here."

"None taken, and Cheers!" adults raised their wine glasses while children raised their glasses of other drinks.

"I love you, Harry." Ginny said.

"I love you too, Ginny." I replied.

The perfect ending to the perfect anniversary.


	10. Ginny Weasley by Pigfarts is on MarsDuh

**Pigfarts is on mars. Duh (Yo)**

**House: Gryffindor**

**Character: Ginny Weasley **

**JK Rowling owns the amazing characters, the cute quote is by Betrand Russell and I own the poor excuse of a plot..**

Every anniversary that Harry can physically remember has to be celebrated, from the night of our first kiss to our first date. He says he has two reasons, A) He loves giving me a chance to dress up and B) Because he has seen how short life can be and he doesn't want to miss anything So you could say that I was not surprised when Harry sent me a note saying the following:

_Dearest Ginnevra, August 4__th_

_Please meet me at the gardens on Dahlia Avenue at 7:00 pm tonight._

_Yours Forever,_

_Harry._

_P.S Wear Pyjamas_

I was of course very excited because I had no idea what anniversary we would be celebrating and intrigued by having to wear Pyjamas...

I was wearing my sexiest PJ's under a comfortable dressing gown (Let's just say my pyjamas were not suitable to be wearing in public).

I arrived at the park to see what seemed to be hundreds of floating lights but on closer inspection, they turned out to be hundreds of tiny faeries flying through the air. Harry was always extravagant on anniversaries.

I sat down on the blanket that was on the ground and examined the picnic that was set out in front of me. It appeared to be a very decadent breakfast.

Harry came from behind a tree and sat opposite me.

"Hey Sunshine"

"Hey Moonbeam"

I only just realised that I've only been calling him Moonbeam since he started calling me sunshine.

We started eating, the food was amazing.

"Why Gin, have you ever wondered why I call you sunshine?"

"Why harry, are you a mind reader? That's what I'm wondering right now."

"Well it's because the first day we met properly, you might not remember, the sunshine was just streaming through the window; you walked down the stairs of the Burrow in your pyjamas and ran back so embarrassed. You didn't even consider that I wouldn't care what you were wearing. All I noticed was two chocolate brown eyes and beautiful red hair."

"Well you could say whilst many things change some still stay as they were. My hair is still as red!"

"And, you're still the most beautiful woman I know which is why I wanted to know if you would even consider marrying me?"

I loved how his voice got high when he wasn't sure how I'd react.

"Of course Moonbeam, I couldn't dream of a reason to say no; not that I want to."

He placed a stunning gold ring with a sapphire surrounded by tiny rubies. It was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen, obviously Goblin-made.

I pressed my lips passionately against his.

"How about we get out of here Sunshine?"

"Sounds lovely Moonbeam."

"_**Love is a little haven of refuge from the world." **_

_- Betrand Russell_


End file.
